The Spearow
by Kayasuri-n
Summary: Told by Myra, a spearow. About her trainer, about the challenges they faced, and about her life. One Shot


It had been a long time since we were last at her nest. But we were returning.

I had been her first companion, and never once had she abandoned me to the strange man. I had never felt like evolving, for fearow are supposedly vicious. And because of my reluctance, I could not fly her to her nest. I am but a spearow, after all; small wings. Not a flying type's greatest hope, to be mostly grounded through life. Which is why most of my kind hope to evolve one day, so that they can soar the skies. Once, I too hoped to evolve, but then…

Ah, then. The strange man caught me, and I knew not what happened after that, until I was released in a strange place. I did not know what was going on, you see, so all I saw was shiny, bright things, and the strange man that caught me. I attacked him, but I was young, weak. I scratched at him with my talons, such as they were, and pecked at him with my beak, but all in vain. He held me about my chest, pinning my wings to my sides. I could not bend my neck enough to hit him with my beak, and his clothes were shielded in some sort of leather. So, I was held immobile, unable to do anything but glare. Glare, and wait for my chance for freedom.

It never came, that chance. The man handled me every day, as well as some other people. They fed me, not grubs as was my usual diet, but some sort of seed, or pellet, that took some getting used to, but I ate it and after a time, enjoyed it. I also had fresh water, and was never put in that cage where there is nothing, you are nothing, and there never will be anything.

Until… I don't know what made that day special. There was talk of some sort of ceremony. After my time spent with the people, I had gotten the hang of their language. They spoke, not with sounds my kind can identify with easily, but a low growl sound. But, one adapts to one's situation, and I learned some of their words. They were talking about something, something that needed the entire place cleaned, all the pokemon, which I didn't know about, groomed and put in the cages.

I was picked, I don't know why. I went to the man who cleaned my feathers, got rid of the feather lice, and gave me a treat: a cherry. Then, when the strange man returned, he put me in the nothing cage to wait.

It wasn't a long wait, I don't think. Time is nothing in the nothing cage. It might have been years, I don't know. All I know is, when I was released she picked me up and let me settle on her arm. I was careful not to pierce her flesh with my talons, and sat calmly, though I wanted to scream my joy at being free of the nothing cage.

She talked to me, using her people's funny words. My new name came up often, and so I learnt it: Myra. She called me this, and thus Myra I became.

We left the building, which had been my home for nigh two moon turns, where there were many of her people shouting and waving sticks in the air. I panicked, spreading my wings and shrieking and flapping, but not leaving. Where was I to go? My flock was becoming a distant memory, in light of all the changes. She soothed me, one hand on my back with low murmurs to me. I shivered under her hand, watching the people with fear. I had been wild, and people frightened me still, if they were in large groups. But she calmed me, for I knew that whoever held the nothing cage was to be my flock, and she held the nothing cage on her belt.

Several people left the main group to their shouting, one of them a woman who was taller then she was, with the same features and hair color, though the older woman had gray at her temples. The woman asked her if I was her first pokemon, and she said yes. The woman smiled, and the group asked more questions, so fast that I could not keep up. She answered all of them with a smile, and her hand ran over my back gently, hardly flattening the feathers there.

And as we walked, soon there grew to be only four walking with her, the woman, an old crone, a man and a young man. The crone had her eyes, while the man looked like her somewhat. The young man too, looked similar to her.

Flock mates, I thought then. Family, I now know.

Can I touch her, the old crone asked. She looked at me thoughtfully, as if trying to decide yes or no. I bobbed on her arm once, and she said yes. They stopped as she transferred me to the old crone's arm. I did my best to be still, to be light. The old crone smiled, her eyes on mine. Her other hand let go of the cane she used to walk, the stick dropping in the dust as she shakily petted my back. I gave a small coo, as a mother to a chick might, and water started to run from the old crone's eyes.

Never give her away, the crone said, as she took me back to her arm. She nodded. I was young then, not knowing what I did. If I had known more back then… but no, I was foolish. By the time I learnt to speak so that they could understand me, if they listened, the crone was dead. It hit her hard, the death of a flock mate. We hadn't even been able to return to the nest to say a final goodbye. I can only hope my old flock paid homage to the crone.

She and they walked to the nest, where I was fed and they fed, and then they slept. I too slept.

What woke she and I was a loud ringing machine. I was not unfamiliar with such noise after being with the strange man, so though I awoke I did not panic. Her actions, however, worried me.

She was not intelligent so soon after awaking. She stumbled around, getting dressed and trying to put both legs through one pant leg. She put two extra pairs of underwear on under her pants, and one over her jeans. Her sweatshirt ended up inside out and backwards, with another shirt half on, half off. Socks were a forgone conclusion, ending up on her hands instead of her feet. Then she went back to bed. I followed her example, going to sleep again. The sky was not even light; no sensible creature got up at that time.

When the sun rose, I woke. She too, woke up when the sun hit her eyes, and looked at her covered hands. She got dressed the proper way, much more awake, and took me downstairs. We fed again, and then she said goodbye to her flock mates before swinging a pack over her shoulders and onto her back. I stayed on her arm, though I cooed to the crone again, as a mother to her child. It was the last time I saw the crone. I think the crone knew I was saying goodbye.

We walked through the town to the grasses, where I recognized my old flight grounds. But I did not leave. I remembered my old flock again, and they recognized me. But I did not leave her, and they did not attack me. We passed through without much of an incident, though she taught me to fight against some pidgey and rattata. She did not do anything, merely left them behind. Those that could move, did. Those that could not would shortly become some hunter's dinner. It had always been a treat, to find the leavings of a hunter. Now, I was providing the hunter the meal. Fate can be strange, sometimes.

We came to a new town, with a large building and several colored roofs. I followed her on the ground, hopping as fast as my legs could take me. She took me to a building that had a red roof, and gave me to a woman who put me in the nothing cage. When I was let out, I no longer felt tired. Time had not passed by much, because the shadows were hardly changed. But that did not mean it was the same day.

Later, I would find out that a machine was used to heal pokemon, of which I am. But it required the nothing cages, nine times out of ten.

I stayed on her arm as she asked about something called a gym. She was told that the gym hadn't been opened that often, and she sounded upset when she replied. She left the building with me, and went to a blue roofed building. There, she bought some more nothing cages, trading them for funny leaves. Money, I learned that day. Then, we left and started walking.

We passed through the forest, and she used the nothing cages to catch a rattata on the other side of the forest. On the inside, she had caught a weedle, which was lucky for it because I was going to eat it.

She kept the other two in the nothing cages, most times. The only times she sent them out was when we fought other pokemon. I stayed out all the time; almost, was her first choice against most other trainers. I helped her catch her pokemon, and warmed her ear when it was cold. I learned to talk so that she would listen, and perhaps understand. I learned about what we did, walking around as we did.

I am not saying it was perfect, it wasn't. I fainted sometimes, and had to be returned to the nothing cage. We sometimes fought over if I should evolve or not. I did not want to, liking myself as I was. She thought I'd be better if I was bigger. When we argued, I would always win. Not because I was right, but because I was the most stubborn.

We fought through the gyms, all nine of them, together. We lost sometimes, more times as the gyms got stronger. I believe we went to the last gym ten or more times. But in the end, we won. We were given the last badge, a shiny piece of metal that could never give testament to our struggle to get it.

I couldn't have done it without her. I wouldn't have wanted to without her. She is the best trainer I know of, has always been. Always. She treats her flock fairly, though I've had to remind her sometimes. Either in words, or by actions. A rap to the head has always worked. I have no doubt it always will.

We camped for a few weeks outside something called the Indigo Plateau. Then we joined a huge crowed to fight to become something called a pokemon master. Crowds no longer worried me, instead I almost relished them. For every twenty trainers that didn't pay their pokemon any attention except what they could do as fighters, there was one who did pay attention, who kept a pokemon out on their shoulder or by their side. It was with those pokemon that I'd talk with, glean the gossip and exchange some of my own.

We fought and lost, and then traveled to the other side of the continent by foot. We started to have our usual arguments about whether or not I should evolve. I simply became more determined to stay the way I was; she became determined that I should evolve.

In the end, she gave it up. Not because of something I said or did, but because of outside forces.

There had been rumors, so many rumors, about a Team Rocket that stole pokemon from trainers. We _had_ thought it rumors, you see. But when people in black clothing attacked her, with a red R on the chest, and we lost, it was not a rumor. When she was hit in the head and her nothing cage's stolen, including mine, it was not a rumor. When she was told not to go to the police, it was not a rumor.

They had forgotten me, I think. It's possible. Spearow are, after all, common just about everywhere, and I was under a bush. They had six nothing cages, and that is all a trainer can carry.

I had talked to some pokemon who mentioned others who attacked humans, either their own flock or outsiders. I had never done so, the idea had never really crossed my mind. Why would I attack my own flock mate? But for protection…

It was the first time I used steel wing. I can only assume that I was not supposed to learn it, to figure out how to concentrate in such a way as for steel to spread over my wings only for them to slam into flesh and bone. It was the first time I had attacked something other then what she had told me, in a battle. Outside battles, I could not. I would not.

But they had fought my flock mate. So I attacked them. I had gone to do a wing attack, but the edges of my wings glowed, turned to steal, and I killed them. It was not my intent, killing never is, unless I am hunting.

She grabbed her nothing cages, and picked me up in her arms and ran. She took us to a healing nest, and gave us to the woman in charge. She explained to the woman what had happened, and the woman called another person, who came and talked to her. She told them everything, about how I had protected her and used steel wing, and killed two Rockets. The person took notes, and asked her to show me using steel wing.

I couldn't. I tried, I honestly did. I even replayed the scenario in my mind, but all I managed was a particularly vicious wing attack.

The person said that was fine. The person left, and for a time we stayed at the healing center, awaiting charges. She was left alone, as was I. The two had been killed in protection of my trainer, and my trainer could not be held accountable for something that amounted to a glitch in my attack. Had I not used steel wing, they would have been unconscious, not dead.

We walked around, she and I. She didn't talk as much, was very quiet. I would ask what was wrong, and she would say nothing. I worried that she thought me a heartless killer.

I remember the day very clearly. She sat me down on a fallen tree, and knelt down to my eye level. Myra, she said, I cannot keep you after what you've done for me.

What have I done, I asked. Do you want to get rid of me because I've killed humans?

No, she shouted. No, she softened, running a hand over my feathers. You saved my life, Myra, and I cannot remain your jailer this way. What friend would keep the other in captivity? So, she said, she was releasing me. She wouldn't feel right otherwise.

She stood up, and took my nothing cage out. She dropped it to the ground and crushed it under her heel. Then, she started to turn away, no matter that I called to wait.

The shattered nothing cage was glinting in the sun, and I made my decision. A spearow does not fly well. I flew to her arm, which was always slightly lifted after a year and a half of occupation.

No, I said. No flock mate leaves the flock. We are a flock. We stay together. Where you go, I said, I go.

She smiled, and cried. She hugged me to her chest, and said that no matter what I said, she would not capture me again. I said that was fine by me, because I didn't like the nothing cages anyway. She laughed, and ran and I flew for a short time beside her, my elation at her happiness keeping me aloft for far longer then normal.

We returned to the Indigo Plateau, and fought to the higher ranks. Near the end of the battles, we lost. We did not return to her hometown still, instead wandered the continent again. We stopped arguing about my evolution. We returned to the Indigo Plateau, and won. It was hard.

That was last week. Now, we camp here, she and I. I am no longer the young spearow she once knew. Pokemon do not live as long as humans. My feathers, which once were glossy and smooth, are now almost dull, ruffled permanently in places due to old scars. My beak has a crack on one side, and I am missing a talon. She looks almost the same, older, taller, her red hair brighter.

While she is just coming into maturity, I am reclining into old age.

I shall not be able to fight again after a time. Perhaps a few months, I think. The dawn light traces intricate patterns against the dew and grass, and the leaves over head. We slept beneath a tree, one I recognize. I look up, where my birth nest once rested. It's gone now, time and weather and who knows what else leaving nothing but a memory.

Soon, there wont even be that much left.

She stirs, eyes opening slowly. I meet her gaze calmly, as I ever have. She smiles at me, and sits up. We didn't bother with anything last night. She slept in her clothes, with neither blanket nor pillow for it was a warm night. I slept on a lifted root.

She doesn't bother to cook. We are but an hour's journey to her nest. I feel my shoulders protest as I fly to her wrist, and settle there.

Spearow do not fly for a reason.

I feel tired, so tired. She asks me if something is wrong, and I say no. I am just tired. She smiles at me, though she looks a little worried, and tells me to get some extra sleep, she'll be fine. I shake my head. I am still stubborn. Forever stubborn.

When we enter her town, there are people cheering. Her family is there, all but her grandmother the crone. I sit calmly as everyone congratulates her. There is not enough energy for me to get excited, as I once had.

I am proud of her, so very proud. We had traveled together, she and I. I had become Myra for her, and had only asked for a little respect in return. I got it, and her friendship, and my freedom to chose to travel with her. It was enough.

I can feel my age in my bones, in the exhaustion I feel. I wonder if I will last till the night, and give a prayer that I shall. I do not know whom I pray too, just that I ask whoever is in charge of death that I leave in my sleep.

She takes me to her nest, her home, and makes it easy for me to step onto the back of a chair. I have had less of an appetite ever since we won Indigo Plateau. For the past three days I have eaten nothing and have yet to feel hungry. Thirsty, I have thirst, barely. There is a party, and I watch over it.

I am reminded of her grandmother, the crone. How I had cooed to her as a mother to a child, and the grandmother had cried. How the grandmother had wanted to hold me, and I had said yes, and she said yes. How frail the grandmother had been.

Now, I am the crone. But there will be no offspring from me, no continuation of the line. Perhaps, that is how it should be.

I find myself swaying on the chair, and she picks me up onto her arm. Her free hand braces against my back, and I rest there. She knows what is happening, but refuses to admit it. But it is obvious, to everyone. My eyes are dull and glassy, my feathers dull, and I have no energy and no appetite. And no thirst, it seems.

She held me like this when we first met, and there was the crowd, I remember. Back then it was for comfort, now it is to keep me from falling to the ground.

What caused this weakness? I had thought that I would have a few months more with her. Was it that last battle, where I struggled beyond sense, against that mighty dragon? Where I had been slammed to the ground, and she had begged me to stop. Was that when? Everyone had known that she had released me and I continued to battle for her. That was perhaps the only reason they didn't tell her to return me to the nothing cage. They knew she couldn't. And I had fought, and won, somehow. The dragon had been tired anyway. Perhaps it was because I was not young, and I had done everything to beat the dragon.

Fought away my fears, at the same time. If I am to die tonight, then I shall. I won the league for her.

It grows dark, and the people start to leave. All but her parents. They suggest that she go to sleep, because it is late and there will be no doubt that some people will want to interview her tomorrow. She agrees, and sets me on her bed while she gets ready to sleep. Then, she gets into bed with me huddled in the curve of her neck, unable to get warm.

My wings are numb from cold, though it is a warm summer's night without the need for covers. I shiver and shake. My feathers are ruffled out against the chill, though it does no good. My eyes close once…twice…and finally…

Habit woke her at dawn. Her eyes slid open slowly, the feel of a bed beneath her, soft like a cloud, was unfamiliar. But the feathered form tucked against her neck was familiar, as familiar as the air that she breathed. Bringing one hand up, she rested it against the spearow, looking down as best able. Her lips started to tug downwards, at the lack of warmth and movement from Myra.

"Myra?"

When there was no answering shift, no answering sound, she lifted herself up on an elbow and looked down at the still form. "Myra!" Nothing.

"_MYRA!_"

**And that is that, my dear readers. This is perhaps the first fan fiction I have written, and ended up satisfied. This is a one shot; there shall be no more chapters after this. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please leave a review, let me know what you think, what you like and don't like, so on and so forth. Ciao;**

**Phoenix Rising**


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